journalistic genius thanks dad!
by Bee-007
Summary: Beck Raemer is the daughter of the famous jounralist Richar Raemer. When her dad finds out about Alex Rider guess who gets sent in to Brookland to investigate - Beck is in for wild ride!


Ok – I don't own anything Alex Rider, every other character is mine. This is a disclaimer even though its probably not necessary as I'm female and Anthony Horowitz is a guy!

Beck Raemer woke with a start. Looking around Beck remembered she was in maths class and a sheepish grin crept across her dimpled face. Pulling her long dark coloured hair out of her face Beck reached down and pulled her mobile phone from her jeans pocket. The front screen had lit up and the phone vibrated indicating a new message from her father.

Becks' father, Richard Raemer was something of an enigma. A reporter for nearly twenty years, half the journalistic world considered him a genius – the other half thought him crazy. Beck thought him both.

Beck flipped her phone open and read the message. Her father apparently had a surprise for her. It was not uncommon for Richard Raemer to spring 'spur of the moment' overseas trips on his daughter in pursuit of his latest story, Beck wondered in this was one of these times. After giving it some thought though, she concluded it was highly unlikely, her father was currently working on a story about Zimbabwean president and there was no way anyone could get into that country at the moment without a UN entourage and permit – which in the current political climate were rarer than gold.

This left Beck completely stumped and she resigned herself to waiting until four that afternoon for her surprise. Beck looked up at the board of the class room, simultaneous equations _yuck!_ With a surreptitious look around she confirmed no one had noticed her, Beck shrugged and sat her head back down on the desk and shut her eyes. For some reason maths class always had this affect on her, but Hourbry North was an overcrowded public school and her un-attentiveness went unnoticed – much to Becks relief.

When the bell sounded half an hour later Beck gratefully left the maths room and descended the stairs. Upon reaching her locker on the ground floor Beck deposited her books and swung her bag over her shoulder. Checking her watch Beck hurried out of the school.

Five minutes on a bus took Beck to the heart of London, bustling with Friday afternoon traffic. Beck liked London; it was one of her favourite cities in the world. It had always just been Beck and her dad, her mum had left them when she was a baby for another man and they had neither seen hide nor hair of the woman since.

Since then Beck had lived all over the world, while her father pursued his articles, Bangkok, Paris, Berlin, Sydney – everywhere.

Walking down the crowded streets Beck glanced around the shopfronts until she spotted her father sitting out front of a bright café.

Richard Raemer was a man of average hight, with thinning dark hair like his daughters and lively brown eyes that sparkled behind his glasses when he thought of a story.

Beck dropped her bag into the spare chair and sat down opposite her table watching her father with amusement – the man was on the verge of hyperventilating he was so excited.

"Ohh Beck I've done, I've got them!" he exclaimed hardly able to stay in his seat, grasping his hands to keep them still

Beck however had no idea what he was talking about; Zimbabwe was not a place her father talked about in tone such as the one he was using now.

"Dad, Dad – settle down, what have you found?"

"Oooooh Beck, the intelligence sector – it's true I've got proof!"

Beck rolled her eyes, journalistic genius or not, her father was a sucker for conspiracy theories. For a long while now he had been bantering about British Intelligence using a kid on missions – as if.

"What kind of proof?" she asked

Richard nearly bounced off his seat, "what kind of proof she asks!" he said mostly to himself "the scoop of a lifetime"

Richard lay out three photographs on the table, slightly blurred as though they had been taken form a long way away.

"Lochie got them for me"

Beck leant closer to examine the photos; in each was a blonde haired teen stepping out of what looked like a bank.

"Do you know who you're looking at?" Richard asked, Beck shook her head,

"Beck Raemer – this is Alex Rider, spy for MI6 – fifteen years old"

Becks eyes widened. Richard Raemer had rock solid sources – the best of which was Lochie Mallard, if her dad said it was true that MI6 had a kid working for them it was true

"Wholly shit" Beck breathed looking over the photos once again.

"Language young lady" her father chimed, before leaning a bit closer,

"Beck, darling I wouldn't ask you but, as an early birthday present, or whatever…" Richard stumbled over the words,

"What dad"

"- well, how do feel about transferring to Brookland School?"

"You want me to spy on the spy – don't you" Beck sighed

Richard held up his thumb and forefinger slightly apart "just a little bit – nothing drastic I swear".


End file.
